How many of you have read or seen “World War Z”? Quite a few, I would imagine. We seem to be obsessed with zombies, with impending apocalypse, with the end of the world. But what if, instead of us becoming zombies, our dogs became the walking dead? How would World War D change our lives?
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It started with Grimm. I originally thought the heat had finally gotten to him. He came inside, limping a bit on his front left leg, looking around wildly. He settled onto the couch, ignoring my calls. I went over to him to see what I could do to make him more comfortable. He looked up but didn’t appear to see me. It was as if I didn’t even exist. He shuddered once, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.
A few minutes later, Grimm started up from the couch as if struck with electricity. He was agitated, looking around for something that he couldn’t seem to find. I went over to him to see if I could soothe his anxiety. And that’s when I noticed that something was extremely wrong.
His eyes were filmy, watery, a greyish color. He continued to ignore me, instead walking aimlessly around me on his quest for…something. I felt for his pulse to see how much his agitation had raised his heart rate and found he had absolutely no pulse at all. What was happening? How could my dog have no pulse and still walk around? I examined him closer. No respirations. No palpable heart beat. His mucous membranes were grey. He was dead…and yet not. My dog was essentially a zombie.
At that moment, Rufus walked into the room. Grimm immediately turned towards him, groaning in a low tone. Rufus walked up to Grimm, preparing to commence play. Instead, Grimm grabbed Rufus by the face and started to eat him.
Rufus yelped in surprise and tried to get away, but the grip Grimm had on him was too strong. I looked on in horror. What was happening? Grimm had never hurt a fly ever in his life and here he was, eating his best friend. I ran over and pried Rufus from his jaws. In less than one minute, Rufus died. A minute later, he was back but not exactly alive. Another undead dog walked my halls.
What was happening? Once Rufus became the walking dead, Grimm let him be. Now two zombie dogs shuffled through the house, looking for something. To my extreme relief, they completely ignored me. I did not relish the idea of having to fight off zombie canines. But then I realized something. If human zombies seek out new humans, my zombie dogs were seeking out other dogs. Where was Zella? She was in danger.
I was too late. Zella ran into the room, plowing into Rufus. Rufus latched on, gripped her by the neck and bit into her flesh, cementing her fate. A few minutes later, a third zombie dog shambled through my house.
I started to corral all the dogs into one room while I figured out my next move. Was there a cure? Were they really the walking dead? Had anyone else had similar events happen? The dogs turned towards me, started to come my way. Was I now a target? I did not wait around to find out if I was next on the zombie menu. I closed off the door to the room, effectively isolating myself from them. I had to try to find out more. Was this the first case? Was Grimm patient zero? Would headlines tomorrow read “Pit Bull Starts Canine Zombie Apocalypse”? Did my dogs really just die? What was going on?
I quickly turned on the television, scanning for news. Nothing on national news but a local station was reporting on a disturbing incidence at the city shelter. All the dogs had escaped their runs and cages and were attacking each other. Animal control was trying to assess the situation. In the background, an animal control officer was trying to slip a lead over a dog’s head. Something was wrong with the dog, something not natural. In fact, the dog looked a lot like how my dogs now looked. I knew then that the man was trying to catch a zombified dog.
On screen, the man screamed. The dog had bitten him! Others rushed towards him, trying to help. Suddenly, zombie dogs were coming towards them. They all ran, barely outrunning the dogs chasing them.
This was bad. Would the man turn into a zombie? Were zombified dogs coming after humans next? It appeared that the infected dogs were teaming up and, after biting unaffected dogs, were trying to come after the people around them. Local police were on scene and opened fire on many of the canines. Unless they were head shots, the dogs kept coming.
From my closed off room, I heard a crash and the tinkle of broken glass. I looked out my living room window. My dogs had escaped and were shambling away. Other zombie dogs were coming towards them, forming a giant pack of undead canines. Where were they headed? Everything was happening too fast. I didn’t dare try to stop them.
Over the next several days, all the world over, humans began the war against the dog zombies–World War D had started. Where it originally started, no one knows. When it will end is anyone’s guess. Thankfully, the people who have survived an attack have not turned into zombies, too. The disease process appears to only affect canines, domesticated and wild. There has been no success in finding a cure for our dogs. Man’s best friend is now man’s number one enemy. From the biggest mastiff to the smallest chihuahua, coyotes and wolves in between, they are all out to get us. Nowhere is safe, no one is immune from their wrath. I will never understand why I wasn’t immediately bitten and attacked. All I know is that somewhere out there are my dogs, the walking dead, at war with the rest of humanity. God help us all.
Grimm's Furry Tail 
